So I've seen a lot of fics that deal with Tarantula's rape of Dick in Nightwing #93, but not a lot that deal with what Mirage did and the aftermath of that, so that's what this story is.

WARNING: this story deals with sensitive topics such as past rape, as well as slight slut shaming and unintentional victim blaming. If you think it will be triggering for you, then please don't continue.

these fault lines (weren't drawn quite right)

Jason Todd was not a family man. He never was and never would be.

This suited him just fine. He was content to be the black stain on an otherwise spotless foundation. He had always been far better at playing the pariah than at playing the hero, anyway.

Bruce wasn't going to change his stance on the way things should be done; and if Bruce didn't waver in his steadfast conviction, neither would any of the others. Those sanctimonious fools would let murderers walk free with a smile and a pat on the back if the Batman told them it was the right thing. They placed him on a pedestal so high it was hard to see him over the glare of the sun.

Jason didn't, though. For him, that pedestal had shattered a long time ago.

Batman wasn't willing to bend his morals, not even for someone as disgustingly depraved as the Joker. He disapproved of Jason's methods, and Jason disapproved of his. And neither were willing to give the other so much as an inch in the other direction. Jason was deadlocked; ostracized from the very place he used to call home.

As a result, Jason tried to have as little contact with his former family as possible. He liked it best that way. He collaborated with them on missions when necessary, but their self-righteous attitudes grated on his nerves, and it usually ended in someone (usually Bruce) being punched in the face. As it was, Tim was the only one he could stand prolonged contact with without having a serious urge to commit fratricide (and yes, considering how many times he'd tried to kill the kid, he was aware of the irony of this).

So yes, while professional association was at times deemed necessary, purely social interactions were strictly banned. They stayed clear of his safe-houses and avoided Red Hood territory; he circled away from their patrol-routes and kept declining Alfred's invitations to Christmas Dinner.

All of these things were fact. And all of them failed to explain to him why he was currently reclined on a couch, sharing a bottle of whiskey with his brother as he played a god-awful drinking game like he was some teenage girl at a fucking slumber party.

Then again, they weren't alone. Roy and Kory were tangled together on the loveseat; and the alcohol was making Jason a bit buzzed, both factors which no doubt contributed to the fact that he and Dick had yet to spill any blood.

It still didn't explain the situation, though. Jason's head was fuzzy on how they'd gotten here. Nightwing had stopped by with some intel on a drug's bust, and suddenly Roy was pulling out the shot glasses.

What it also didn't explain, was that he was actually having fun. With Dick.

The questions started out simple, if a bit embarrassing. Never have I ever flirted my way out of a ticket (Roy drank for this, because, of course he did). Never have I ever cross-dressed for a mission (both the bats took a drink). Never have I ever done it in a public place. Never have I ever gotten stuck in handcuffs (both which resulted in Jason learning more about Kory and Dick's previous sex-life than he ever wanted to know). But the game went on, and the questions slowly got more… personal. Heated.

"Never have I ever died," Roy said with a smirk.

Jason glared as he took a drink. "Asshole."

"Never have I ever committed mass murder," Dick muttered scathingly, apparently deciding he and Jason had gone too long without insulting each other and that being civil was too much effort.

Jason's insides flared with a familiar rage as he took a drink, slamming the shot glass onto the coffee table with a lot more force than was necessary. The whiskey burned his throat as it went down.

He opened his mouth to spit something back, but Roy—who had never been happy with the treatment his friend received from his so-called family—followed the comment with a pointed retort of, "Never have I ever abandoned my friends."

There was a short exhale from Kory. Dick's face hardened. Roy had just voiced the issue he and Dick never spoke of—the falling out they had years ago due to Dick turning his back on him when Roy had been hooked on heroine.

Jason had heard it from Kory and had been shocked. Abandoning a friend in a time of need? It wasn't the Dick Grayson way. The man was so loyal it made Jason ill sometimes.

Jason watched his brother's face, the way his jaw clenched. It was like watching the beginning of a car wreck. He couldn't stop it. A large part of him didn't even want to.

And Dick snapped back, "Never have I ever been an addict."

Jason choked on his whiskey at the completely uncalled for blow. "Jesus, Dick, what the fuck—"

"Never have I ever cheated on my girlfriend!" Roy snarled.

The air stilled, and for a moment everything stopped.

"Roy," Kory protested quietly, but he ignored her. His eyes were still locked on Dick, narrowed and brimming with hostility.

Jason felt himself frowning at the sudden and palpable tension, and he looked at his brother. Dick's face had drained of its color; he was sitting taut as a wire, and his grip on his shot glass was so tight it was surprising it didn't shatter.

No one spoke. Jason didn't know what had set it off, but it was clear Roy had stepped on a landmine.

Dick's jaw tightened, and his face was unreadable as he threw back the shot. He slammed the empty glass back onto the table hard, the sound echoing in the silence. Then he shoved himself up from the couch.

"Dick, wait." Kory's voice was apologetic as she reached out to try and catch his arm, but he brushed her touch away and stalked out of the room.

Kory sighed as she settled back against her boyfriend, eyes sad as she looked up at him. "I wish you wouldn't have done that."

Roy's face twisted indignantly. "He was asking for it! You heard what he said-"

"I did. And he shouldn't have said it. But you shouldn't have brought me into the argument like that."

"He cheated on you - "

"Dick and I have long since made our peace," said Kory. "I haven't forgotten what he did. But it's been years, Roy. He has expressed his guilt for his actions, and I have chosen to forgive him."

"Wait," Jason broke in. His head was spinning with disbelief. "You're telling me Dick cheated on you? Dick?"

He couldn't wrap his head around it. Dick's loyalty to those he loved was absolute - it was that same quality that made him blind to Bruce's faults, and which made Jason detest him so much - so the idea that he would do that to Kory went against every aspect of his character. Sure, Dick could be seen as a playboy; it was a running joke in the hero community that there wasn't many people he hadn't slept with. But for all the women he'd been with, he'd always been completely devoted to all of them. His eyes didn't stray.

"Yeah," Roy said. There was something ugly in his voice, something mean. "With some future lover of his from the future or some shit. Hell if I know. Fucking bastard."

Kory's eyes looked pained, but she placed a calming hand on her boyfriend's cheek. The anger in his eyes softened a bit as she placed a kiss on his lips.

"It was years ago," she told Jason, turning back to him. "We were both young. We broke up because of it, but it's in the past now."

Jason processed that information with a frown. He'd still been Robin when Dick and Kory had broken up - just a couple months before the Joker had killed him - and he hadn't cared at the time to know why. Since beginning to work with Roy and Kory, Roy's dislike of his former friend had hinted that the reason behind Dick and Kory's break up had been by fault of Dick. But the specifics of it had never been mentioned.

The longer he thought of it, he found himself growing pissed at his brother's actions. He always acted like he was such a saint, shoving his morals in Jason's face - and there he'd been, cheating on Kory with the first girl who'd spread her legs for him.

Jason threw back another shot. The alcohol burned as it went down his throat. He stood up. "I'll go get him," he told Roy, as he started in the direction of where Dick had stalked out. "Give him a good ass-kicking for what he said."

He found Dick in the kitchen, nursing another glass of alcohol he must have gotten from the fridge. He sat completely still, staring down at the granite countertop in front of him without actually seeming to see it. He didn't react when Jason entered.

"The fuck was that?" he demanded loudly.

Dick made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Eloquent as always."

His bitter tone caught Jason off-guard, but his anger quickly overrode it. "I can't believe you brought that up! You know how much Roy still struggles with it! And you call me an asshole?"

Shame flashed across the older boy's face, and Jason felt a surge of deep satisfaction. Good.

"And what's this I hear about you cheating on Kory?" His voice was sharp with disgust. Dick stiffened, his muscles tensing, but Jason kept going. It felt good to watch his words hit their target, felt cathartic. "You hypocrite. You sit there on your high horse preaching to me and Roy about our actions – what the hell gives you the right?"

Dick's hand tightened on the glass, his face expressionless. He didn't respond.

"I guess what they say about you is true," he said, his lip curling. "Dick Grayson really can't keep it in his pants—"

"Shut up," Dick said lowly. His face was pinched, his voice strained. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know enough," he said. Which wasn't exactly true – he barely knew anything – but whatever. He didn't care about specifics. Dick had cheated on Kory. That was all he needed to know.

Dick always acted so superior, was always looking down on him and judging him. That was what pissed Jason off so much. It wasn't the cheating itself, it was the goddamned double standards.

"She loved you," Jason spat. "How could you do that to her?"

"Leave it, Jason," he snapped back, and there was something tenuous to his voice now – a thread on the verge of snapping. "It's none of your business."

"You hurt one of my friends – and then tonight, you decided to behave like a dick. So I don't really give a fuck."

Dick's eyes flared, his head snapping over to look at him for the first time since he entered the room. "You blow people's heads off as a hobby! You've got no right—"

"To what?" Jason interrupted. Anger roared in his ears and he welcomed it gladly. "To judge you? Why not? It's all that you seem to do—"

"You're a murderer—"

"And you're a cheater!"

"I had sex with my girlfriend!" Dick yelled. The words seemed to burst out of him, like a balloon filled with too much air, and Jason was shocked into silence. "I was eighteen and horny, and when my girlfriend came in the room and climbed on top of me, I had sex with her! What was I supposed to think, Jason? 'This woman who looks like my girlfriend might not be my girlfriend, I better check just to be sure'?"

Jason blinked, anger quickly draining. "I… what?" He shook his head, feeling like he'd lost the track of the conversation. If he ever had it in the first place. "I think I'm missing something."

"Like I said," said Dick, his voice scathing. "You don't know what you're talking about."

He threw back his drink, draining about half of the glass. He placed it back on the counter, and all of his previous ferocity seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders slumped as he pulled in on himself, returning his gaze to the counter in front of him. He looked tired, a deep exhaustion reaching down to his bones, and Jason felt completely wrong-footed. He didn't know how to deal with this type of Dick Grayson. He had never seen this type of Dick Grayson.

He moved slowly across the room, taking a seat on the stool next to his brother. This close up, he could see how pale the man looked, how tensely he held himself. His knuckles were white clenched around his glass, trembling just slightly. There were ghosts in his eyes.

"What happened?" Jason asked.

Dick released a shaky breath, closing his eyes. Jason didn't say anything, just waited.

"Her name was Mirage," he said finally. "She claimed to be from the future of an alternate world where we used to be lovers. Or something, I don't know. I honestly don't remember much of what she said."

Dick stared down at the glass in front of him, his eyes a million miles away. His hand shook as he raised the glass to his lips.

"She was a shapeshifter," he said, and something in Jason went cold.

No, he thought, and he suddenly wanted Dick to stop talking. He didn't want to hear the story. He didn't want to know.

He didn't want to understand, but he was afraid that he already did.

"Kory, she – she came up to my room. Or at least, I thought it was Kory. I should've – I should've known that it wasn't, but…" Dick swallowed, breath catching. His words were coming quickly now. "She got on the bed and got on top of me. She kissed me, and I kissed her back, and then we – we – "

Coldness spread through Jason's chest. He thought he might be sick. Dick's voice dripped in self-loathing, and his words echoed in Jason's head. I should've known.

Blood thundered in his ears. Horror turned into rage. How dare someone do such a thing to his brother – how dare someone violate him like –

Dick was shaking beside him, close enough for Jason to feel his tremors, and the anger faded. He shoved the fury down, his fists shaking. Rage wasn't what Dick needed now.

"She had sex with you," Jason confirmed, and Dick jerked his head in a nod. "Disguised as Starfire." Another nod. "And you didn't know."

Dick nodded again. Disgust coiled within him, and his hand shook as he ran it through his hair. He didn't know what to say – what he could say. How was it he hadn't known? Did anyone? Did Roy?

"Jesus Christ, Dick, that's—" Jason locked his jaw, swallowed down the bile rising in the back of his throat. "Dick, that's fucking rape."

Dick's entire body jerked, like he took an invisible hit.

"Don't, " he said, and his voice cracked over the word. His fingers trembled against the glass. "Don't – use that word."

Jason stared at him. He looked – fuck, Jason didn't know how he looked. He'd never seen Dick's face look that way – eyes drowning in a cold terror that was painted across his face like an exposed nerve.

Jason wanted to reach out and touch him, to place his hand on his shoulder, but he didn't. He'd dealt with dozens of rape victims over the years, and he knew how bad of a move it would be in this moment.

"That's what it was, Dick," he said softly. "You know that's what it was."

Dick hunched his shoulders and didn't try to deny it. It was clear that he did know it was rape, even if he couldn't bear the sound of the word. But it was also clear that a part of him still blamed himself. His face was shrouded in shame, and his voice earlier had been sharp with self-loathing. I should've known.

What was it that Kory had said earlier? He has expressed his guilt for his actions.

Rage spread through him at the realization—that his brother had been tricked and violated, and had then felt the need to apologize for it. Did Kory know the true story behind what had happened? Jason couldn't believe that she did. After everything Kory had been through – everything that had been done to her – there was no way she would blame Dick for something like this.

Had Dick gone all these years believing it was his fault? Had even a single person been there to tell him it wasn't?

"What happened after?" he asked.

Dick shrugged, trying (and failing) to look unbothered. "Mirage shifted back into herself and gloated over managing to trick me. Then she went downstairs and announced to the rest of the Titans what had happened."

"Then what?"

Dick laughed, sharp and sudden in the quiet of the room. "I got called a slut and then asked who was better."

Jason's knuckles tightened around the edge of the counter. Don't get angry, he reminded himself, struggling to contain the curses held just behind his teeth. He'll close off if you get angry. You can punch something later.

"Dick," he said, once the rage had dulled enough, "you know that's not true, right?

Dick was quiet and didn't respond. Something heavy sank to the bottom of Jason's stomach.

"Dick."

"I've heard what people say about me," he said with a shrug. His attempt at casual failed miserably, and his voice came out rough and strained. Like there was shards of glass in his throat. "'Nightwing's the masked community's bicycle. Everyone's had a ride'."

The words were spoken verbatim. They were practiced – something that he'd obviously heard more than once. Jason felt sickened.

Dick had a reputation – both with his mask and without. He'd been with a lot of people, and he'd always been free with his affections. People made comments, liked to tease; most of it was just harmless jokes. Dick had never seemed bothered by any of it.

Jason remembered his own words just minutes ago. Dick Grayson really can't keep it in his pants.

Fuck. Fuck.

"Don't say that," Jason snapped. "Don't talk about yourself like that. I'm sorry about what I said earlier, I was an asshole."

Dick bit his lip but didn't react. Jason sighed, fighting down another wave of anger toward the people who had allowed Dick to have this type of view of himself. Him included.

"It wasn't your fault," he said fiercely. "You're not a slut, fuck them. It wasn't your fault."

A breath escaped Dick's lips, shaky and fragile. His eyes were wet.

"It wasn't your fault," Jason repeated, "and I'm sorry it took so long for someone to tell you that."

A tear escaped Dick's eye. He swiped at his cheek quickly, turning his face away in embarrassment.

They sat there together, neither of them making any move to speak or stand up. Jason turned away, allowing his brother the time to pull himself together without him watching.

She's dead, he thought, listening as Dick's breaths slowly began to steady. As soon as I'm out of here, she's fucking dead.

Dick wouldn't approve. He would hate the idea of Jason taking vengeance in his name. He would never allow it.

Jason didn't care.

"Thanks, Jay," he said finally.

Jason shrugged. "Don't thank me. It's the truth."

"Could you…" Dick hesitated. "Could you not tell anyone please?"

"I won't tell anyone," he responded immediately. Personally, he didn't agree that Dick should keep it to himself. But it was his story to tell, not Jason's.

"And I'm sorry for being so harsh with you before. I don't agree with the way you do things, but you're my brother. And I love you."

Jason… didn't know what to say to that. It was a bit too much emotion for him in one night. Instead, he looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Want me to kick Roy's ass for you?" he asked.

Dick laughed, quiet but warm, and Jason felt his chest warm at the sound. "Thanks, but that's okay."

"He shouldn't have brought that up."

"He doesn't know the full story. Besides, he's drunk," Dick added as an afterthought.

"Not that drunk," Jason argued. "He was out of line—"

"So was I," Dick interrupted. He turned to look at him. "I shouldn't have said what I said. Bringing that up… I crossed a line. He retaliated."

Jason sighed. "Fine. But just say the word, and I promise I'll punch him. Brother's prerogative and all."

Dick smiled. "I'll keep it in mind." He stood up, walking over to the sink to empty the rest of his glass. "I'm gonna go apologize. You coming?"

"Nah. I think I'm gonna crash for the night."

Dick nodded and exited the kitchen to rejoin the others. Jason watched him as he went, his lips pressed into a hard line. His mind was already scheming, was already imagining blood painted across the ground. Tomorrow, he would act. Now, he would settle in for the night.

He had a murder to plan.

This was a very serious topic, and I hope I managed to handle it with the respect it deserves. If anything I wrote comes across as offensive, please don't hesitate to tell me.

Thank you for reading.